The Quarter Quell
by alliswim
Summary: Welcome to the 3rd Quarter Quell. While this year's Quell allows family members to volunteer for reaped victors, what will Katniss do to get Prim out of the arena alive? SAME CHARACTERS - NO REBELLION
1. Chapter 1

Hi guys! This is my first fanfic, so if you would be so kind as to rate and review my work I ask you to be gentle with your opinions! Let me know if there's something I should fix, and I'll hop to it. Hope you enjoy! Next chapter coming out soon (tomorrow, the next day) if you're interested at all!

Thank you and enjoy!

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The Quarter Quell

Welcome to the 3rd Quarter Quell- the 75th Hunger Games. This year's Quell is: While only past victors are reaped, only family members can volunteer. SAME CHARACTERS - NO REBELLION

CHAPTER 1 - KATNISS POV

In the woods, it's easy for me to lose myself and focus on hunting. While I haven't been out here as much as when I was taking care of my mother and my sister Prim, I can still remember the patches where wild turkeys roam or the berries grow. Ever since Peeta and I won the Hunger Games, we've been doing interview after interview and touring Panem to see the Districts. Being so busy faking love and dreading the act of mentoring new District Twelve tributes fills my life with reasons to hate the Capitol. The Capitol will control my life until the day I die, so I haven't been thinking about Gale or his family as much as I need to. I know that I should, because while I have been living an 'easy life,' Gale hasn't accepted any of the money I got as a result of being a victor, and still works at all hours- either in the mines or hunting for his family.

When I was finally allowed to slip away for a few hours today, I sneaked out to the woods surrounding District Twelve. I set snares and use my bow and arrows to help Gale's family out. When I feel I've gotten a decent haul, I take the game over to the Hawthornes' house and give the food to Hazelle, Gale's mother. Gale knows I hunt for him, and it pains him to see it. So I always go to his house when I know he's working in the mines. I skip going to the Hob today, because I've been gone for a while and my family will be wondering where I am. I need to go back early today because the Quarter Quell subject is being announced today. Every 25 years, as a reminder to the Districts that the Capitol can torture us as much as it wants, the Hunger Games rules are varied a bit. In the first Quarter Quell, the Capitol forced the Districts to vote on the tributes to be sent to fight to the death. In the second, there were twice the number of tributes. Out of all 48 of them, Haymitch beat the odds and was that year's victor. Tonight, the third Quarter Quell will be announced.

I rush back to my family's home in the Victors' Village- while there are 12 homes, only three are occupied by Peeta, Haymitch and I. I can't help but grimace when I think about how long it will be until another home is filled. I walk in the front door and see my mother and Prim already sitting in front of the television. I dump my empty game bag on a table and sit down on the couch.

President Snow is looking as grotesque as ever, with his wispy white hair and snakelike features. He stands on a large stage, reciting from a small gold card that he has picked out of a small white box. The back of the card says 3rd Quarter Quell.

"And so, as a reminder to the Districts that even the strongest of the strong cannot overcome the power of the Capitol, this year's Quarter Quell will be based on only the victors being reaped." President Snow's words take a while to sink in. What? I think. I don't understand what he's saying.

"However, because supporting victors as though they are your family is important in the Games process, only those with a blood relation can volunteer for reaped victors." Suddenly, it all makes sense. There is one female victor from District Twelve. I have to go back into the arena. Back to the Capitol and the audience and the killing and the nightmares. My throat lets out a choked noise. I stand up and stumble backwards until my hands find the door. I twist the doorknob and run out.

When my feet hit the ground I wonder where I am to go. My legs decide to take me to my old house in the Seam. As I'm tearing through my old neighborhood, I can't think of anything except the horrors I have to face. When I slam open the door of the rusty old shack I used to live in, I fly into the old bedroom. I crash on to the bed and sob. I was supposed to be safe! Being a victor means you never go back in the arena! This time, for sure, I won't be coming back out alive. All those victors have had years to study the games as mentors, and know the best way to kill without being killed. My stomach flips upside down and suddenly I'm throwing up my lunch and everything else that's in me. I heave until nothing comes out. I sink back onto the bed, sickened by the Quell and the mess on the floor. I sit and cry for a while, knowing I'm going to die this time. My family will be left alone for sure. Can my mother survive this? What will Prim do?

Prim. My eyes snap open. "However, because supporting victors as though they are your family is important in the Games' process, only those with a blood relation can volunteer for reaped victors." Prim might volunteer. I don't want her to; don't want her to give up her life for me. I can't let her do it. My mother won't, though, that I know- who else would take care of the sick and starving in the District? Because I know I need to explain to Prim why she cannot go in the Games, I shakily pull myself up and sit on the edge of the bed. I will myself to get on to my feet and shuffle out of the room. I find some cloth and soap and clean up the mess in the bedroom. I slowly, slowly gather the courage to walk back to my family. My family. The one that is being torn apart to entertain some alien snobs in the Capitol. This last thought gives me the boost I need to trudge the last few steps into our house. My mother and Prim stand in the kitchen, hugging each other and crying, when they notice me in the doorway.

"Oh, Katniss!" cries Prim.

That's all it takes. I run into their arms, and instead of being strong like I was at last year's reaping, all I do is sob and make no attempt to hide it. It's not like this is the real reaping, I tell myself, although that thought offers absolutely no comfort. After many minutes of this, I let go long enough to give them instructions for the reaping.

"Listen to me," I say. "Neither of you will volunteer for me. Do you understand? Mother, you have to stay and take care of the apothecary shop. Prim, I will not allow you to."

"But Katniss, I have to! You volunteered for me!" Prim gasps.

"No! Just no! Prim, there is no way you'll survive!" Harsh, but absolutely true. I have to make Prim understand that if she volunteers she dies. I want desperately to think otherwise, but she's still smaller than me. There is no way seasoned victors will go easy on her, and no way her kind nature will allow her to get anywhere in the Games.

"Prim, Katniss is right." My mother's voice falters on the last word. "You can't go." I can tell that my mother's heart is breaking as she says this. But I am glad she does. Maybe with the two of us convincing her not to volunteer, she will spare herself.

Prim chokes out another argument. "But Katniss is a victor! She shouldn't go back in!"

I have to agree with her there. And now that I take a hard look at Prim, I see that she in fact has grown up. She's not just taller, and leaner, too, but I can she in her determined face that through all of the things she's had to go through at such a young age, she's gotten a lot more mature. Now that I think about it, in a few months she's going to turn 14. Didn't Finnick Odair win the Games when he was 14? Of course, Finnick was like a god of war when he got that golden trident in his hand. What special skills does Prim have? Healing can't exactly kill others, and she couldn't hunt with me when I showed her how. But she knows plants as well as I do, so she could at least find food in the arena. I actually taught her to climb trees when I tried to teach her how to hunt, and she excelled at that. She could be safe in the arena, at least for a little while.

What am I thinking? Prim couldn't win even in the normal Hunger Games! With the victors, it would be even more brutal!

"Well?" Prim demands expectantly.

"No," I reply sternly. Then I turn around and march out the door. Prim won't convince me. I won't let her. So I slam the door shut, take a few shaky breaths and sit down on the steps. The air is warm and smells sweet. I can hear birds chirping in the trees that sit in our yard. I start crying again, and this time I'm not trying to stop.


	2. Chapter 2

I forgot to add a disclaimer on chapter 1, so here it is:

I do not own any part of The Hunger Games series- be it the books, the new movie, or Suzanne Collins herself. I'm just writing fanfics about it to pass the time.

Anyways, I hope you enjoy chapter 2~! It may be short, but I always feel like I've written a lot. Oh, well. I guess this means there will be more chapter updates! Hopefully you guys are happy with this. If you like the story, or hate it, or just don't care, then please rate and review! I can't improve this if you don't tell me what I did wrong! Okay now just sit back and enjoy Chapter 2!

CHAPTER 2

I take a few shaky breaths and slowly stand up. I wonder if Prim even has a chance at the Games. Maybe with an alliance, one could kill the others and Prim could heal their wounds. And because I would mentor her, I could let her know when to cut off all ties with them. So she would just need a good ally for that plan to work. Then my mind flashes to Peeta and Haymitch. Either of them could be reaped, and the other couldn't take their place. Would I want Prim with Haymitch or Peeta? No, I think. I don't want Prim going in the first place. I push the thought out of my head and go back inside. I've been crying for a while now, and Prim has gone to bed. My mother sits on the couch, staring at the television. I can see a replay of this evening's Quell announcement on the big screen. All of a sudden, there's a loud knock on the door. I walk over and open it, to find a disheveled Peeta staring at me helplessly.

We look at each other, unsure of what to say. "What are we going to do?" Peeta breaks the silence.

"I don't know," I reply, and with that, I bury my self into his arms. So strong and hard, I can't help but remember the days we spent in the cave during our past Hunger Games, with Peeta a foot away from death. His arms were like sticks, and yet I felt protected when they enveloped me just as I do now.

"Is anyone going to volunteer for you?" Peeta asks.

"I told Prim not to, but I didn't think my mother had to be told, too." I respond. "Do you think we should talk to Haymitch?"

"I think we should," admits Peeta. We walk out the door and across the yard. The door is already slightly ajar, but we knock before we go in anyway.

"Haymitch?" I call out. I can hear glass shatter in the living room. Peeta and I scurry over, afraid of what we'll find.

"Haymitch!" Peeta yells, and runs over to where our mentor has been throwing his bottles of liquor. I notice they are all empty, with not a hint of alcohol on the carpet. Peeta grabs Haymitch's hand just in time, to stop another wave of glass shards from flying out everywhere. He wrestles it out of Haymitch's hand, and leads him to the couch. Peeta and I sit across from him on two deep red overstuffed chairs. The whole house smells even more of alcohol than usual.

"Are you drunk?" I spit at Haymitch.

"What do you think, sweetheart?" he replies just as nastily.

"Haymitch, what are we going to do?" Peeta asks. He seems just as desperate for a plan as I am.

"Stay alive," Haymitch responds, before he starts cackling. Peeta and I look at each other, both understanding that it will be a while before he will be coherent enough to talk to.

"You go back home. I'll take care of him," instructs Peeta. Again, my mind flashes back to before the Games, when Haymitch was drunk on the tribute train and Peeta offered to clean him. I'm sure that with this Quell going on, I'll have to relive old horrors and experience new ones. I shiver when I think of the nightmares sure to come.

"Sure, he's all yours," I respond, and turn back to go home. I start thinking about my team. When I get in the arena, would I rather have Peeta or Haymitch? Neither, of course. But what choice do I have? Because Peeta has been protecting me ever since our names were called at the reaping, I decide that this time I will be the one protecting him. That is, if he goes in. If Haymitch ends up in the Games with me…. well, what would I do? We're family now, and while he's awful I don't want to kill him. Would we make an alliance and then call it quits if we made it far? Act like we hate each other and kill to get it over with? I don't want a repeat of what happened with Rue, when we were still allies and I couldn't save her. I'm sure Haymitch doesn't want to kill me, either. Not that he could. While he may have won the last Quarter Quell, his drinking hasn't exactly made him a top athlete. If we were to become allies, Haymitch might just slow me down.

And suddenly I hate myself for thinking this, hate the Capitol for making me think like this. Why are they doing this to us? Is it punishment to get back at making a fool of their Games? Do both Peeta and I have to suffer, as well as the rest of the victors and their families, because two tributes won instead of one? Times like these make me wish the Capitol was destroyed, and all of its gluttonous, freaky citizens along with it. Why does my life have to be torn apart for their entertainment? Are their endless dinner buffets and plastic surgeries not enough?

I'm fuming over this when I slam open my door. Inside I see Gale and my mother whispering to each other.

"Gale!" I say, ignoring their strange method of conversing for now. I dash over and am inside his arms in an instant. I remember hiding in Peeta's arms just a few moments earlier, and feel uneasy. Gale and Peeta should not be thought about at the same time.

"I'm sorry, Katniss," says Gale. "You shouldn't have to go back in. Which is why your mother and I think Prim should."

"What?" I hiss. I back out of Gale's arms. Why is he saying this? He of all people should know Prim can't survive in the Games!

"Katniss, the Games aren't for a few months. She can train with Peeta and Haymitch, and they can make an alliance. One of them will kill, and she'll heal. Besides, you can't go back in. We've all seen how your first Games changed you, and I will not let that happen again," Gale explains.

"You're crazy!" I shout. I look to my mom for help. "And you told Prim yourself that she couldn't go in for me!"

"I said that to calm you both down. And when I hear Gale's reasoning, I agree with him. This is the way I think will hurt you both the least." My mother starts tearing up. This forces me to consider their opinions. Yes, if Prim trains, she would have the same chances as I do, maybe more. After all, having such a pretty face will get her more sponsors than my fire did, and with Haymitch or Peeta protecting her from the beginning would be better than my situation. But I remember that neither of them even hinted about protecting Prim if it came down to it. Still, I find it hard to believe they wouldn't even join an alliance with her.

I sigh. "I'm not agreeing to this, and neither of you can convince Prim to volunteer." Not that she needs any convincing. I saw her eyes when she pleaded with me. "But she has to train, and she has to talk with Haymitch and Peeta about alliances." Those two are the only ones I can trust. I don't want to give Prim away, and I'm determined to get her out of this. Still, to make my mother and Gale feel better, I let it go for now.

"Thank you, Katniss." My mother lets out a cry and I hug her. I see Prim coming down the steps.

"Did she say I could volunteer?" Prim asks hopefully.

"No," I say. When I see the crushed face staring back at me, I reword my answer. "I mean, I don't want you to volunteer, and I won't let you if you don't train." That does the trick. Her eyes light up and she flings herself at us. But that reaction is all wrong. Why is she happy she can go into the Games? I wasn't happy when I volunteered for her, but I guess I didn't let that stop me.

After we talk about her volunteering some more, I determine that she is quite serious. Prim has grown up so much, I've just been so involved in my own life that I haven't had time to notice it. Which makes me feel awful and brings me back to my hatred for the Capitol. Will this ever end?

Gale heads home and we go to bed. I lay awake for a long time, thinking about the options Prim has for survival depending on Peeta or Haymitch being reaped. I briefly wonder if Peeta's family will volunteer for him, then decide that there's no way that would happen. None of his brothers volunteered for him the last time, so why would they now? In fact, I'm almost hoping that his younger brother, Glaten, doesn't volunteer if presented the chance. Ever since I got back from my Games, I've had a feeling that he and Prim were more than friends. And it's not because both of their siblings survived the same Hunger Games- Prim certainly doesn't flutter her eyes and blush when she sees Peeta's older brother, Crist. If she had to kill or be killed by Glaten Mellark, I'm sure she would regret volunteering for me.

Then again, with that kind of relationship, would he be more likely to protect Prim? Would Prim let herself go for Glaten? If she does, my relationship with Peeta would be evn more confusing than it is now, which seems hard to imagine.

Now, the only question is should I prepare myself for the Quarter Quell as a mentor or a tribute?


	3. Chapter 3

Hey guys! Here's chap. 3! If you have time, please review! I've gotten one so far, and that alone made me finish this chap today! So yes they do work wonders for me!

Anyways The Hunger Games belong to Suzanne Collins and Scholastic. I'm just writing a fanfic. Please enjoy this, though! If you don't like it just tell me and I'll do what I can to change it!

CHAPTER 3

When I wake up, I know right away it's late in the day. When did I end up falling asleep? I stayed up all night thinking about whether to make my own nightmares or let Prim try them out for herself in the Capitol. I'm no closer to an answer now than I was when the Quell was first announced. I'm going to be questioning this until the moment my name is called at the reaping. But deep down, when I imagine myself in that scenario, I am still praying Prim does not volunteer.

I sit up in my bed and stretch. The birds are still chirping outside my window, and I wonder what it would be like to be so free to fly away whenever I wanted. That kind of freedom would never happen here in Panem.

I push that thought out of my head, not wanting to spoil such a nice, well, afternoon. I walk into the bathroom and still marvel at its beauty. When I first came here almost a year ago I was shocked. The bathroom alone is bigger than my house in the Seam, and the bathtub and sink and mirrors all still shine like the Capitol. I splash some water on my face and dry it with a towel. I trudge out of my room and down the stairs, still feeling the effects of last night's terror. When I step into the kitchen, I can see Prim, my mother, Peeta, Gale and Haymitch sitting at the table. Since when did my house become District Twelve Tribute Headquarters?

My mother speaks first. "Have a good rest, sweetheart?"

"Sweetheart" sounds so different when my mother says it. "What time is it, anyway?"

This time it's Peeta who answers. "About 1:30. We were going to wake you up if you didn't come down soon. We've decided to train as a group for the Games."

"What?" I ask, dumfounded. I stare at everyone at the table. When I get to my mother, she looks down. Prim stares back defiantly. Gale looks at me, and I can see the pain in his eyes. Haymitch's are still red from his event last night, and Peeta has a similar look to Prim's. "Why would we do that?" I ask.

"Because," explains Gale, "we figured that if we couldn't stop Prim from volunteering, and we don't know if Peeta or Haymitch is going in, we might as well work together." Well, that much I could have deduced myself.

"Does that mean that no matter who goes, there's an alliance in District Twelve?" I question.

"Basically, yes," answers Haymitch. Well, I guess this is somewhat comforting.

"You must be hungry," says my mother, and with that I nod and sit at the table. My mother begins to whip up a huge brunch for all of us, and we eat until we're stuffed. If we're going to train anyway, we might as well get all the energy we can.

CHAPTER 3.5

As I walk over to the roped off section for past victors, I keep glancing around at those who've been tied in to this. Peeta's family stands off to the side. My family stands away from my side of the victor's holding pen, and Gale and his family stand at the head of rest of District Twelve. I arrive at my station, and wait for the reaping to begin. I can see everyone's faces- the merchants, the people of the Seam, everyone. And they're all the same. Disappointed. Angry. Sad. If the Hunger Games weren't enough, then this year's Quarter Quell is too much. I turn away from their anguished faces for fear of letting tears slip.

"Well, let's get this started, shall we?" prompts Effie Trinket. "First, let's have Mayor Undersee read off our Treaty of Treason." You can count on Effie to be completely oblivious to her surrounding's feelings.

As the Mayor drones on and on, I can't help glaring at Prim. While she may have excelled with her physical training, I try to do everything I can to discourage her from volunteering for me. I focus my attention on Effie, with her hair dyed bright yellow this time, and a sky blue jumpsuit covering her from knee to neck. She stands on a medium sized stage, with only two chairs behind her this time. All of the mentors are being reaped.

Effie sees that Mayor Undersee has finished his speech, and all but hops over to the girls' reaping bowl. Seeing the single slip of paper in it makes this whole event seem anticlimactic.

"Ladies first!" She reaches in and fishes out my name. "Katniss Everdeen."

I clench my fists and stare down my sister as I walk up to the stage. When I climb up the steps, I think I'm safe to risk my life again. But because Effie has to say something that is horrible every time I see her, she adds, "Are there any family members that wish to volunteer for Ms. Everdeen?"

My eyes shoot to Prim, not even bothering to glare at her. Instead, I try to make them look as pleading as possible. Surely she can't volunteer for me now.

But she does. "I would like to volunteer for her," states Prim, and with that she glides up to the stage as if this is no big deal.

"No!" I manage to choke out. Why do I feel so horrible now? We've been training for the past four months with her volunteering for me always in my mind. "You can't, Prim! You can't!"

"Go, Katniss. It's my turn now." Prim isn't faltering.

"No!" I yell, before I feel Gale's arms grab me. I resist, but they're too strong and end up carrying me over to my mother. "Prim!" I scream.

"Now, what's your name?" I vaguely hear Effie ask.

"Primrose Everdeen," declares Prim.

"I knew you'd volunteer. Can't let your older sister take all the glory for a second time, right?" Effie says. I grimace and see Prim do the same. Still, she's trying not to show any emotions. I cannot believe she volunteered for me. After all I've done to protect her!

"All right, now for the boys." Effie saunters over to the reaping ball with two pieces of paper in it. I don't have time to wonder who I would rather it be when she's reading the name.

"Peeta Mellark."

I exhale loudly, realizing I've been holding my breath. Well? Is this good news or bad news? I rack my brain for an answer but come up with none. All of a sudden, a women's scream slices through the air.

"No, Crist, no!" I whip my head around and find Peeta's nefarious mother clinging on to her eldest son's arm. The baker forces her off and Crist walks forward.

"I volunteer as tribute," say Crist, brushing past Peeta as if he were a piece of paper. Peeta seems too shocked to react.

"My, my, my! Two volunteers for District Twelve! This sure is an exciting reaping!" Effie can't contain her excitement. Maybe she might actually get promoted to a decent district next year. Mayor Undersee finishes off the reaping, and Peacekeepers escort Prim and Crist Mellark to the Justice Building. My mother, Gale, and Peeta's family follow. Haymitch, Peeta and I go in the opposite direction, towards the trains. Peeta and I let Haymitch take the lead, fall a few steps behind him and start madly whispering. There are going to be two main mentors- Peeta and I. But because we won the Games just last year, Haymitch will be _our _mentor for the first few that we are in. So if we try to plot anything without telling him, both of our siblings will suffer. It would be better if we had Haymitch's planning skills to help us.

"What do you propose we do, Katniss?" Peeta asks. He keeps his voice low so as not to alert Haymitch.

I'm still distraught over Prim volunteering. "What can we do? We should just mentor them like we're supposed to."

"Are you sure our relations to the tributes won't distract us?"

I look at him. How is he phrasing that so calmly?

"Well, what are we going to do?" I ask, repeating his question. "Decide between the two of them who deserves to live more?" Peeta flicks his eyes on the ground below him. I didn't mean to hurt him; I'm just confused and angry about Prim, about Crist, about the Capitol's torturous Games.

"Maybe I should mentor Crist, you mentor Prim and we keep their training to ourselves," suggests Peeta. Now I'm shocked.

My mind is too muddled with deciding who's sibling is more important, so all I manage to choke out is, "What?"

Peeta shifts his eyes onto me. They're burning with determination. "You heard me, Katniss. We mentor them separately. Whoever wins, wins separately. No. Alliances."


	4. Chapter 4

By the way, one of the readers of this fanfic pointed out to me that Peeta has 2 older brothers. All I thought was, oh no! But I decided that we would change this fact for the sake of this story. Plus I really thought he was a middle child so I made no effort to reference it in the books. My bad, sorry.

So, The Hunger Games belongs to Suzanne Collins and Scholastic. I'm just writing a fanfic- none of the characters or part of the plot belongs to me.

Enjoy a lightly longer Chapter 4 and if you have time, please review!

CHAPTER 4

All I do is stare at Peeta. There's fire in his eyes. Why does this surprise me so much? He has siblings just like me, and I would do anything for Prim. Of course Peeta would do everything in his power to make sure Crist wins. But part of me is looking for the Peeta that told me he loves me- sweet, caring, calm. I see no hint of that guy in the boy walking next to me. Is he really going to ditch me, ditch _us _ for his brother? Well, I would ditch him and Haymitch for Prim if it came down to it, but not without remorse for not helping the other tribute, whoever it may be. The swarms of cameras trying to catch a glimpse of the most recent Hunger Games victors interrupt my thoughts. Peeta and I take each other's hand not out of want but need. The idea of getting married to him seems so much more impossible when I realize our brother and sister are going to fight to the death. I smirk when I think of what a great conversation starter that will be on our honeymoon, then wipe the smile off my face when I see Peeta staring at me.

"What?" he hisses through an almost closed mouth. If the cameras saw us talking it would take that much longer to get on the train. I decide this isn't the time to be telling jokes.

"Nothing," I hiss back with what I hope has an equal amount of annoyance in my voice. After at least an hour we are allowed to bid adieu to the crowd. We board the train and are told Prim and Crist are resting in their quarters. The Capitol attendants ask if Peeta and I would like to share a room. I'm certain I'll need Peeta to protect me from the nightmares I'm going to have tonight, but I let him answer.

"Separate," he huffs. My eyes show the obvious shock that answer has given me. The attendants raise their eyebrows, clearly wondering why an engaged couple refuses to spend the night in the same room. They want to know more, but instead nod and show us to our rooms. I see it looks exactly like the one I was in on my last tribute train. I sit on the bed and try to make a plan. Instead I hear Effie Trinket knocking on my door.

"It's time for dinner!" I hear through the door. I stand up, walk over and open the door and am met with a glob of pink hair. When Effie sees me step out of my room she starts fluttering to the dining car. I follow.

When we step into the car, I see Peeta and his brother, Haymitch and Prim all sitting at the table. Effie and I are the last to arrive. Effie takes the seat next to Haymitch, and I take the end chair next to Prim. The dinner starts to find its way on our plates in courses, with a thick pea soup, roast chicken, mixed greens, fruit and bread platters, boiled and mashed potatoes, with warm chocolate cake for dessert. Prim, Crist, Peeta and I haven't been starving for a while, and we usually get the best food District Twelve has to offer. Still, Peeta and I know not to overdo it on the rich stuff- but apparently Prim and Crist don't. Their green faces remind me of my first Capitol meal, and all the subsequent events that happened after it. I push those thoughts out of my mind when Crist asks Haymitch, "So what do you think we should do?"

He takes a while to gather his thoughts, then clears his throat. "Well, first we need to know if you and Primrose want to be coached as a team or separately."

Peeta jumps in and declares, "They will be coached separately." Haymitch shoots him a look and he quiets down.

Prim speaks up, with more determination in her voice than her small frame would predict. "Well, Peeta already knows my special skills, so I don't think it would make a difference to Crist if we were together or separate. But I want to be coached as a team." I look at Prim. I guess that having Crist as an ally would be better than trying to go against him. He is, after all, taller than Peeta, and his muscles have been developed after years of working in the bakery. I can't imagine Prim taking him down, even with the new strength she acquired through training. If it weren't for Peeta, I would say that forming an alliance would work best for both.

But Crist beats me to it. "I say we team up. Prim can heal any injuries that we might get, and get us berries and edible plants. I can hunt any tributes that get too close to us."

Haymitch considers this. "Alright, if that's what you want to do. Primrose, what are your skills?" This question is just so Crist can know more about his ally. Peeta, Haymitch and I already know her skills.

I hear Peeta mutter, "Teaming up is the worst thing you can do." Crist hears this as well, and rolls his eyes. Prim appears to be unaware of the comment.

She sits up straighter and says, "Well, I'm good with plants and berries, so food won't be an issue. I'm good at climbing trees, so shelter won't be an issue. And I've gotten over my fear of killing things, so I can set a few snares for both animals and tributes." Never have it thought Prim could even imagine herself hurting another living thing. Watching her sister do it almost everyday must have contributed to her growth.

Haymitch thinks about this, then asks Crist the same question. Crist replies with, "Well, I can lift at least 200 pounds, and I'm pretty handy with spears, swords and knives."

Peeta looks surprised. "When did you learn that?" he questions.

"You guys weren't the only ones holding training parties," he replies. That shuts Peeta up. It shuts me up, too, not that I was saying anything. I do know that having Crist team up with Prim is a thousand times better than pitting them against each other.

Haymitch breaks the silence. "Okay, then that's decided. When we get to the Capitol, stay together. Not the way your mentors did it, but as if you were brother and sister. Act appropriately- you can hold hands, but Crist- you're the big brother. Protect her. Prim- if you want sponsors you can't be weak. Act as if you think Crist is overprotective, but you appreciate him for it. Any questions?" Crist and Prim shake their heads. "Good. Now let's go watch the reapings."

We head to the television and sit down, with me in between Prim and Peeta. I feel somewhat awkward, which is the first time I've ever had that feeling while just sitting next to Peeta. Haymitch flicks the screen on, and the seal of Panem sit int eh center. It transforms into District 1's reaping stage. A young girl is called up, but no one volunteers. That's strange. Distict 1 always has volunteers, especially if weak kids are reaped. But I figure she must have some special skill if no one takes her place. Her face proves me right- she's got hard eyes with confidence overflowing from them. I make a note to ask Prim to watch out for her. The boy must be six feet tall, but he's as thin as a stick. Another boy, shorter than the first, takes his place. This new tribute must have as many muscles as Thresh did, just compacted into a smaller frame. The screen flashes to District 2 quickly, and a beautiful girl is reaped. She looks to be around 17, and has long brown hair that shines in the sunlight. She looks as if she thinks she's got this competition in the bag. She casts quick glares at the crowd, warning people not to volunteer. No one does. The boy tribute turns out to be an equally attractive boy, at least 16 or 17 years old. He's got wavy blonde hair and green eyes. His expression tells me he can already hear the victor trumpets announcing his win. On and on the reapings play, with typical kids and tough killers being chosen. One boy stands out in my mind more than the others, one who looks around 15, called Pine. He's from District 11 and I can actually see him winning the Games. He's got to be taller than six feet, and his arms remind me of Cato's when he was choking Peeta over the mutations. I glance at Peeta and see he remembers the same thing. I turn my attention back to the screen, and note his brave look. He looks better fed than the rest of the crowd, which leads me to believe he may be the Mayor's son or something. I ponder his healthiness until the screen flicks to District 12. Effie calling my name, Prim volunteering, my hysterics. Peeta getting called, Crist taking his place. This performance makes it obvious why the Quell allows family volunteers. The announcers comment on our siblings' love for us and I want to punch them. The reaping concludes, and the screen goes black.

"Well," say Prim., "I guess we can find out more about them at Training, right?"

I look at her and nod. "Remember, when you get there, stick together. Don't make any other alliances."

I look to Haymitch for confirmation of my order. He nods at me. "Right," he gruffs.

With that, we all head back to our rooms. Peeta follows me to mine and stands in front of the doorway, blocking my path. No need to be romantic here.

"I'm sorry for how I acted. But I'm not giving up Crist for Prim, no matter how much I love you." He speaks this last part without the slightest hint of embarrassment.

"Right, it's okay. But know I'm not giving up Prim for Crist. We should let them be allies and see how it goes from there. Do you want to be Prim's mentor and I be Crist's?" I ask. It could be a good strategy.

"No. If I send Prim a message would she understand it as well as if you sent it to her?" he asks.

"I guess your right," I admit. "But can we agree to no dirty tricks?"

"Definitely," agrees Peeta. "And one more thing. Can I spend the night with you?" His puppy-dog eyes are so convincing I wouldn't be able to refuse him even if I didn't have nightmares.

"Definitely," I repeat. And with that, we head into my room and fall asleep.


	5. Chapter 5

Okay, so I was rereading ch. 4 and saw the last sentence said "…we head into my room and fall asleep." Just for specifics, they didn't go inside the room and immediately fall on the floor unconscious; they went into the bed and fell asleep quickly.

Anyways The Hunger Games belongs to Suzanne Collins, not me. Please review if you have time! Reviews really make my day (even if they aren't entirely nice. It just means people care enough about my writing!) Also I knew that tomorrow everyone would be reading Mockingjay if they got it, so if I want y'all to read this baby before going on a MJ hiatus, today is the day!

Okay now please enjoy ch. 5! Sorry it's so short! If you come back to read this after MJ, I promise my next chaps will be longer!

CHAPTER 5

"Get up, up, up! It's gonna be a really big, big day!"

Peeta and I wake up to Effie Trinket pounding on our door. I wish I could go back to sleep, though, because I woke up several times during the night screaming for Prim to run away from a burning Cornucopia. Peeta held me close and whispered soothing words to me until I fell asleep, only to relive the nightmare again and again. He must not have gotten much sleep either, and probably had nightmares too. His arms were trembling as they hugged me.

We finally get out of the bed when Effie's knocks become poundings on the door.

Peeta gets her to stop by yelling, "We'll be right there!" To me, he says, "Feeling any better?"

I shake my head. "Not really, but you can't be feeling to good either. I kept waking you up with my screaming."

"Yea, but I'm glad you did. Those nightmares feel so real I'd rather not sleep at all," says Peeta.

"Tell me about it," I mutter, and get ready for breakfast. While Peeta's in the bathroom washing his face, I pull on long brown pants and a dark green shirt. Peeta and I trade places. When I get out of the bathroom, Peeta extends a hand to me, clearly trying to convince me that the angry brother from yesterday is gone. I take it, and we go down the hall to the dining cart. Prim and Crist are already there, and I assume Effie is trying to wake up Haymitch. Peeta and I take our plates and load up on eggs, bacon, battercakes and rolls. I sit next to Prim and Peeta next to Crist, and notice the Capitol attendants have already placed steaming mugs of hot chocolate in front of us. They know our weakness.

The calm dining atmosphere is interrupted by Haymitch banging open the car door. He's muttering obscenities under his breath when he takes his seat. Effie follows, bright and chirpy as ever. I hear Haymitch mutter, "Didn't even let me sleep a wink," and know why he's angry. Effie sits down, and starts blabbering to Prim about some hair treatment she got in the Capitol that made her hair neon green instead of lime. Prim looks interested enough, but I decide she's just a good actor. No one from the Districts can think Effie's blabber is interesting.

I hear Crist clear his throat. We go silent and look at him. He looks embarrassed as if he didn't mean to start a table-wide conversation. When I get a good look at him, his short, straight brown hair doesn't resemble Peeta's in the slightest, and with his grey eyes he could almost pass for a resident of the Seam.

"Do you have a question?" Haymitch asks.

"Well, yes. What are we going to do when we get to the Capitol?" asks Crist. He should know from watching years of Hunger Games, but maybe he's nervous about the events behind the scenes.

"Well, you meet your stylist, go to opening ceremonies, go to training, go to interviews and go to the Games. Does that sound easy enough?" Haymitch replies, clearly annoyed Crist is asking such an obvious question. Crist slides down in his chair.

Prim breaks the awkward silence and asks, "Are we going to have Cinna and Portia as our stylists? I loved the outfits they made last year."

"Yes, you are. And you do whatever they tell you to do, no matter how painful it is," I answer, wincing at the thought of Prim getting de-haired.

Now, she looks mystified. "Painful?" she says, and arches her eyebrows, her way of saying she's interested, not scared.

"You'll see," I assure her, and turn back to my food.

I look up again when Haymitch starts talking. I pay attention to learn how to mentor other kids in the future. "As Katniss said, make sure you let the stylists do whatever they want with you. When you get to the Training Center, stick together. Go to the stations with the skills you don't know, and don't show off the things you do. Don't make any other alliances," Haymitch glances at me for confirmation. I nod. "But refuse politely. Don't want to make unnecessary enemies. Got it?"

Prim and Crist nod. "Good. Now when you get off the train, start acting right away. Sponsors have to see your sibling love, and they have to be convinced." The tributes nod again. We finish our breakfast and go to the sitting room. Staring out the windows, I am reminded again of last years' Games. The nervousness I felt from not knowing what horrors I'd be met with in the arena. The homesickness from thinking I'd never see my family again. I grab Peeta's hand tightly. He squeezes back, momentarily comforting me.

When the train starts climbing up the mountain to the Capitol, Peeta takes me into our bedroom. He closes the door and sits on the bed, staring at his feet.

"I've been thinking," says Peeta quietly, "that maybe we should mentor each other's kid." I look at him, and decide the reason he's speaking softly is out of embarrassment for rejecting my offer earlier.

"Sounds good to me," I say. I've been mentoring Prim for this thing her whole life. After all, the Games are just an extension of our previous ways- fighting for survival, although we didn't kill anyone. Peeta could teach her more than me at this point, and I assume it's the same for Crist.

Peeta looks up at me. "Ok, then it's settled."

The train stops, and I hear the door open to the cameras. "Right. Now lets go and meet our fans," I say, and take Peeta's hand. We leave the bedroom and go outside. Spotting Prim, Crist, Haymitch and Effie, we speed ahead and join them to venture into the next few days.


	6. Chapter 6

Hey guys… I absolutely HATEHATEHATEHATE ending it this way but I started high school and it's a school that assigns a LOT of homework….I'm talking five hours a night. But that isn't important-over the breaks, I may rewrite the ending and make it different…but I can't do anything now. So just read this and hang on until the long weekends and breaks!

Anyways review if you want- but please don't tell me you hate me. I really want to make you guys happy but if you aren't then tell me what I can do to fix it. PLEASEPLEASEPLEASE tell me if you like this "twist." Please.

All characters belong to Suzanne Collins. Go Mockingjay! Yay

CHAPTER 6

KATNISS POV

The screens flicker on. We see Prim and Crist standing on a small metal circle, both pairs of knees knocking from the nerves. A voice blares from the speakers.

"Ladies and Gentlemen! Welcome to the 3rd Quarter Quell- the 75th Hunger Games!"

Green. Everywhere there is green. The golden Cornucopia is already beginning to lose to the rapidly growing vines surrounding the small opening in the forest. Prim and Crist struggle to catch a glimpse of the other tributes but with no luck. The thick forest seems to make it impossible to see someone standing a yard in front of you. The camera pans to show the audience a wide view of an endless swamp.

"Let the Games begin!"

The seconds tick by, with Crist flitting his eyes from tree to tree, determined to find the Cornucopia. He finally spots it, a gold and green structure overflowing with food and weapons. I hope there is something to clear branches and weeds with, because it looks impossible to travel through the arena without tripping every other step.

The gong rings out, loud and clear. Prim seems confused, only standing on her metal plate. Crist is determined to reach the gold horn, but has some difficulty pulling his boots out of the wet ground. At least their suits provide some camouflage. The tributes are wearing dark green full body jumpsuits, perfect for sneak attacks. The black boots don't look easy to walk around in, as if they were purposely made to get stuck and slow down the user.

Prim has started to move, but away from the Cornucopia. She must be looking for Crist by the way she's moving her head, but she's going in the wrong direction. She might be able to find some edible plants, but I haven't seen any animals suitable for food on the screen. At least she's leaving the other tributes. The tribute pool made up of mostly experienced killers. My fears quickly turn into panic, and I want to hold Peeta's hand. I need support. I need Prim to be safe.

She keeps tripping, sometimes falling on her face. She gets covered in dirt quickly, and Crist isn't looking too good either. He however has already gotten as many supplies as he can carry and is heading in the same direction as Prim. He's got a set of knives attached to a belt he has already strapped around his waist, a first-aid kit, water bottles also dangling from the belt, a long spear in his left hand, a bow and arrow slung over his shoulder and something that looks like a folded-up bright orange tent. These seem to be good supplies, but he'll need to open the first-aid kit soon because he's got a long red cut on his cheek bone. This help has come at a price.

I look at Prim's screen and find her stopped dead in her tracks. She seems to have heard something that's forcing her to make no noise at all. I see a rustle in the thick leaves, and see a shiny black boot step out, followed by a long, sharp spear poking out in front of it. She sees it a second after I do and tries to bolt, but doesn't get far. She screams as she's running.

I'm terrified for Prim, but I can't do anything about it. She screams. I try to jump up and ball up my fists, but the straps and my wrists and waist hold me down to the bed. I let out a shriek too, not because of the restraints but because I might be watching my sister die. I turn my head to see if Peeta is as scared as I am, and see him trying to rip off his own straps. An Avox flies into the room, banging the screens and effectively turn them off. A cold liquid flows through a tube and into a vein in my right arm. I am left with the sharp, bitter smell of the white room, the tightness of my restraints and the knowledge that Prim is most likely dead as I quickly fall into sleep.


	7. Chapter 6 REDO

Well, here's the new chapter. It's not the end, but I needed to end this chap here. A new chapter will be up soon. Yay for long weekends!

The Hunger Games belongs to Suzanne Collins, and I'm guessing she belongs to her publisher! I own nothing.

Enjoy it, then review!

CHAPTER 6 – KATNISS POV

The screens flicker on. We see Prim and Crist standing on their small metal circles, both pairs of knees knocking from the nerves. A voice blares from the speakers.

"Ladies and Gentlemen! Welcome to the 3rd Quarter Quell- the 75th Hunger Games!"

Green. Everywhere there is green. The golden Cornucopia is already beginning to lose to the rapidly growing vines surround the small opening in the forest. Prim and Crist struggle to catch a glimpse of the other tributes but with no luck. The thick forest seems to make it impossible to see someone standing a yard in front of you. The camera pans to show the audience a wide view of an endless swamp.

"Let the Games begin!"

The seconds tick by, with Crist flitting his eyes from tree to tree, determined to find the Cornucopia. He finally spots it, a gold and green structure overflowing with food and weapons. I hope there is something to clear branches and weeds with, because it looks impossible to travel through the arena without tripping every other step.

The gong rings out, loud and clear. Prim seems confused, only standing on her metal plate. Crist is determined to reach the gold horn, but has some difficulty pulling his boots out of the wet ground. At least their suits provide some camouflage. The tributes are wearing dark green full body jumpsuits, perfect for sneak attacks. The black boots don't look east to walk around in, as if they were purposely made to get stuck and slow down the user.

Prim has started to move, but away from the Cornucopia. She must be looking for Crist by the way she's moving her head, but she's going in the wrong direction. She might be able to find some edible plants, but I haven't seen any animals suitable for food up on the screen. At least she's leaving the other tributes. The tribute pool is made up of mostly experienced killers. My fears quickly turn to panic, and I want to hold Peeta's hand. I need support. I need someone to tell me Prim will be safe. But Peeta is in the other District 12 room, with his two television screens on Prim and the entire tribute pool. My room has a screen focusing on Crist and the pool. I hate that we're separated, as if we've been planning with our separate tributes how to sabotage the others. Does the Capitol think their Games can really make Peeta and I forget our trust in each other?

Prim keeps tripping, sometimes falling on her face. She gets covered in dirt quickly, and Crist isn't looking too good either. He however has already gotten as many supplies as he can carry and is heading in the same direction as Prim. He's got a set of knives attached to a belt he has already strapped around his waist, a first-aid kit, and water bottles dangling from the belt, a long spear in his left hand, and a bow and arrow slung over his shoulder. These seem like good supplies, and I'm surprised he had the strength to get them, but he'll need to open the kit soon because he's got a long red cut on his cheek bone. This help has come at a price.

I look at the screen that's showing what all of Panem sees, and it's focused on Prim. She's stopped dead in her tracks. She seems to have heard something that's forcing her to make no noise at all. I see a rustle in the thick leaves, and see a shiny black boot step out, followed by a long, sharp spear poking out in front of it. Prim sees it a second after I do and tries to bolt, but doesn't get far. She screams.

The seconds seem like years as the spear flies through the air. A low noise escapes from Prim. She now has an open wound in her right arm. The blood is flowing so fast I can't see the exact shape of the cut, but I can see her attacker lying on the ground face down. I decide the reason the spear didn't hit Prim in the chest is because Crist has taken down the victor from District 1 with his own spear.

He then sprints through the thick vines, gets to Prim and throws her over his shoulder and keeps running away from the dead victor. The Panem screen focuses on other tributes at the Cornucopia, fighting with each other and with the vines. My eyes move to Crist's screen and my jaw closes after hanging open for so long. Since when did Peeta's brother, a baker, get so strong and fast? How could I not have noticed his power? With little Prim looking like she's just dangling off his shoulder, can I really be thinking that Prim can kill him?


	8. Chapter 7

Huzzah! After a year of nothing I've finally updated the story! I hope everyone who stuck around to read it and also any new readers enjoy.

I don't own anything in the Hunger Games- not the books, the new movie or Suzanne Collins herself.

Anyways, I hope you like it! Please tell me how to improve or any faults you find that I can change. I'd love to hear you opinions!

KATNISS POV

After some time spent running, Crist lets Prim down.

"Can you jog with me?" he asks.

"I can try," Prim says, and they start jogging farther away from the Cornucopia. Her right arm is completely covered in dried blood, and the right side of her jumpsuit has a darker tint than the rest of the dark green. Prim and Crist have to dodge the vines and trees that keep laying traps for them as they jog, so it seems to take them almost double the effort to get as far away as possible. Training for a while before the actual Games is becoming an even better decision as time goes on.

It appears the battle at the Cornucopia has ended, and thirteen canon shots ring out. My eyes leave Crist's television screen for the general one, and I can see the Career victors hacking away at the foliage surrounding the horn. I look a little harder and realize that they've been trying to clear the same bits of land over and over. The greenery just keeps growing back, until the strong, short victor from District 1 says something.

"Just spray it with this! You're wasting time!" he yells, and he throws a black spray bottle to the female victor from District 2.

The District 2 girl catches the bottle but says nothing as she starts spraying the vines with the chemical. Nothing happens, so she starts hacking away again, but the spray must work for this purpose only because nothing grows back. After she clears her section of land, she tosses her bottle back to the District 1 boy, apparently named Nican. "Here, Nican!" she says.

Nican takes the bottle, clears his land and gives it to Pine, the District 11 tribute. I'm a little surprised to see Pine with the Careers, but I don't worry about it too much. Enemies are enemies no matter who they team up with.

I look back to Crist's screen and see they've stopped moving. They're sitting on a fallen log, and Crist is trying to bandage Prim's arm.

"No, no, I can do this myself," Prim says, and tries to get Crist to step back.

"You can heal others, but only when you've got two hands," Crist replies.

"Let me at least help your cheek!" Prim whines, and Crist just shakes his head. He manages to clean up her cut, which looks a little more manageable when blood isn't oozing out of it. He bandages it, and tells Prim that she can take care of his face.

"This might sting a little," Prim says, as she puts some kind of cream on his own cut. Crist winces, and the scene reminds me of Peeta's and my time in the cave the year before. Except neither Prim nor Crist are starving or near death. It's too early in the Games for that.

Prim finishes her first aid, and the two stand and start jogging again. Prim has the bow and arrows and the first aid kit; Crist has the knives, water bottles and spear. Apparently the bottles are empty, like the one I had in the beginning of the Games. My mind flashes back to the thirst I felt last year, almost giving up because I couldn't find any water. In this jungle setting, I can see some clouds hovering over the arena, so maybe the water will just find Prim and Crist as it falls as rain.

I look at the general Games screen and see that the view is focused on the male tribute from District 4. He's an old guy, who looks to be around 65 or 70. He probably owes his old age to him being a victor, because without all that money I'm sure he would have had a difficult time reaching that age. The tribute looks to be hiding himself in the foliage; sort of what Peeta did when he was in his mud bank. He's positioning himself on the ground so you can't see any part of his body except for the edge of a sharp sword he's got covered in the moist dirt. Well, okay. I guess he doesn't have as much energy as the younger tributes, so he has to let his prey come to him. I'm not too worried about Prim and Crist though, since they've been moving in the opposite direction for almost an hour.

The screen switches to focus on the tributes from District 6 and 8. The female from 6 must be in her 30s, as well as the male from the same district. District 8 has a rather old female but young male tribute, who could pass for being only 25 years old. They must be forming an alliance because they're all shaking hands…but District 6 is behaving strangely. The two won't stop shaking hands? Oh, wait. I vaguely remember the two having won the Games in years close together, then falling in love. There's no way I'm going to fall in love with Crist or any other male tribute in the following years, so I'm probably safe from the hordes of reporters wanting to get the inside story on such a development. At least the unique turnout from Peeta's and my love story has simmered down to a point where we get on a little more, if not the same amount of coverage as all the other past victors.

The tributes from 6 and 8 start heading their own way away from the Cornucopia, so I look back at Crist's screen and realize it has already started to rain. Well, a better way to describe the water falling from the sky would be a light drizzle. Prim and Crist take some leaves off surrounding trees, find a wide patch of large-leafed plants and take cover, leaving their smaller, saucer-shaped leaves out to collect water.

I walk to the male District 12 mentor room. Peeta and Haymitch are watching the screens intently. What could be so interesting? I pull a chair next to Peeta and sit down. I worry that they're not far enough away from the Cornucopia and all of the other tributes, when I notice that the general screen has turned to Prim and Crist. The bloodbath ended a while ago, so the cameras have been struggling to find something interesting to report on. I can't imagine why watching two kids sit under some plants could possibly be exciting to the viewers when I hear a strange voice speak.

"If you're trying to get away from everyone else, you'd probably want to run farther than this." Crist is standing now, completely blowing his cover. His spear is ready to throw, and he's looking from side to side like a crazy man. We didn't really teach him what to do with another tribute; we only focused on making them strong. I hope this doesn't hurt him right now.

Prim, at least, as the sense to stay below the leaves but still arm her bow. Could she really do it? Could she kill someone she's never met and walk away as the hovercraft carries the body away? Prim, the girl who couldn't kill a squirrel. Just how much have I missed in the past years I've been detached from her life?

"Seriously, you should really think about running farther," the voice says again.

"If you haven't killed us by now, you must want something," says Crist.

The voice laughs. I'm not with them so I can't tell what direction the person is speaking from. It sounds like a man, though, and he reminds me of Haymitch.

"I guess you're right," the man says, and jumps down from the tree he was hiding in. I'm surprised he was able to climb up it. The trunk looks so smooth, with only vines climbing up the tree. Prim looks surprised, too, but must reach the same conclusion as me: he just used the vines to pull himself up. It's entirely possible, considering how small the guy is. He might be about 40 years old, but he's still shorter than Peeta. Short brown hair, squinty eyes, short arms, short legs. He's carrying a wooden stick with a spiked sphere at one end, and he has a dark brown backpack on his back. I remember him being from District 7.

"I want an alliance," the man says simply. Crist looks surprised. I can't really tell what kind of face Prim is wearing.

Crist speaks. "Why would you want an alliance with us?" Prim stands up, although her bow isn't drawn.

"Well, you guys are young and you, boy, look strong. What else can I say? I need some help but I'm still pretty good with this mace here," the man says, and swings around his 'mace,' throwing it in the air and showing off his skills. He seems pretty sleazy to me, and I hope Crist and Prim don't accept his offer.

Prim has been staring straight at the man, but her eyes focus on a point in some vines a few yards away. I figure out my mentees have been ambushed a second after Prim. "Run!" I scream, even though the only ones who can hear me are Peeta and Haymitch. Prim yells Crist's name, and he looks confused for a moment. He seems to see or hear something going on in that vine bush and the two take off running. Crist turns around for a moment, most likely trying to hit the District 7 man with his spear, but the man is gone. There's a girl chasing them, though, and she's fast. A name goes through my mind. Johanna Mason, a young woman who won her Games by pretending to be weak and then obliterating the competition. She's got an axe in her hand, and I'm really dreading the moment she decides to throw it. Crist throws his spear at her, managing to hit the arm she holds her axe in. The axe falls to the ground, along with Johanna's right arm. Such a gruesome sight, but at least I know why the general camera has been focused on this change in events.

Prim and Crist keep running, but no one knows where the guy from District 7 is. A terrible thought runs through me. I hope he sneaks up behind the two, because Prim is in the lead. If someone has to get hurt, I don't want it to be my little sister. I look at Peeta, hoping he didn't somehow read my mind. He raises an eyebrow at me, then looks back at the screen, morphing his face into a concerned mentor or older brother, I don't know.

District 7 jumps in front of Prim. My fears come to life, but Prim somehow dodges the mace thrown at her, gets a good grip on her bow and shoots the man through the stomach. Wow. She must have really improved her reflexes during those training months. "Is the other one dead?" she yells to Crist.

"I don't know, but I got her arm off," replies Crist. "She's definitely not following us, not with all the blood she's losing."

Prim retrieves the arrow from the man's stomach. How is she able to make someone cry out in pain without blinking an eye? A canon fires. The man is still groaning on the ground. Was Crist's wound on Johanna enough to make her die this quickly?

Prim looks at the man, then back at Crist. "Let's just get out of here," she says.

"Yeah. But first…can we agree to not make any allies here?" asks Crist. Prim nods assent.

"That guy gave us a pretty good piece of advice, to get farther away. I'm sure Katniss would have told us the same thing," says Prim. She's right about that. The farther from the other tributes, the better. The general screen focuses on some other tributes, and Crist's screen shows the two jogging away again, virtually unscathed from this battle.

I look at Peeta, too shocked to comment on anything. "Shall we go get some food?" he asks, and I nod. Haymitch is just sitting in his chair, but when Peeta asks if he wants to join us he shakes his head. Maybe this battle sparked some flashback to his Games.

Peeta shrugs, and takes my hand. He leads me down to a dining room and there we start discussing our siblings.


End file.
